


Sweet Cherry Pie

by TalkMagically



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Food Porn, LITERALLY, M/M, PWP, Porn, Porn With Plot, there is porn and food is involved, you won't believe me if I told you what gave me the idea for this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-03 01:59:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12738729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalkMagically/pseuds/TalkMagically
Summary: Dean Winchester LOVES pie. Michael tends to forget that cherry pie is Dean's favorite.





	Sweet Cherry Pie

Michael began digging through the pantry when he couldn’t find the can of cherry pie filling he had just promised Lucifer.

“Mikey, I’ll just swing by the grocery store on the way back home,” Lucifer called from his seat at the breakfast bar.

“No, Luce. I swear we have a spare can that we haven’t been using,” Michael said loudly so Lucifer could hear him.

“Dude, a can of store-brand is what, $3? I can spare it,” Lucifer argued.

Michael sighed in frustration, but he knew Lucifer had a point. Canned pie filling was cheap. Michael gave up his search and stepped out of the pantry, closing the door behind him as he made a mental note to tidy up the chaos before Dean got home. Dean was particular about being able to find things in the kitchen.

“Dean must have done something with it. Sorry,” Michael said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lucifer waved it off. “I should get going, though. Sam and Ruby are waiting for me back at the apartment. We need to finish getting ready before we head to Meg and Cas’ party, and I’ll never hear the end of it if I don’t at least help with shoveling our sidewalk today. By the way, are you still sure you aren’t coming to the party?”

“Dean’s been guilt tripping me about work. I’ve missed too many dinners and have been pulling too many all-nighters lately, and today is my first day off in a while. I promised it’d just be us tonight. Sorry,” Michael apologized again.

“It’s fine. It’s fine. You’ve told me about how needy Dean is. I’ll just let the others know we need to catch you on a different night,” Lucifer said.

“Thanks for understanding,” Michael said.

Michael and Lucifer meandered their way to the door and through their farewells. With promised plans to hang out again soon, Lucifer gave Michael a hug and left. Michael locked the door behind Lucifer and let out another sigh of frustration, turning on his heel and making a beeline straight back to the pantry to tidy it up. Might as well do it right away.

“I swear we had one,” Michael muttered under his breath as he pushed the box potatoes back together and realigned the canned vegetables. He grumbled when he realized that he was having difficulty getting the pantry back to the pristine organization Dean had it in before, and Michael decided to cut his loses while he was ahead. Everything was back in the general area it was supposed to be in. Dean wouldn’t be too mad at him for that. At worst, Michael would just have to deal with eating something he didn’t like for dinner later that evening.

Michael wandered back into the kitchen and out into the living room, stretching out on the couch before reaching for the TV remote to turn on the Science Channel. God, he couldn’t remember the last time he was actually alone in the apartment for any amount of time. Michael typically returned from work after Dean and left for work before Dean. Yeah, maybe he really did need to stop working such long hours at the firm. Michael didn’t want to linger on his guilt over the situation, however, and zoned in on the episode of Mythbusters currently airing.

“You are  _ not _ falling asleep on me already,” Dean spoke up loudly, causing Michael to startle. Michael looked at the TV in confusion as Adam and Jamie began their end-of-show conclusions. Hadn’t the episode just started?

“I… I’m not…” Michael began to stutter, looking back and forth between the TV and Dean standing at the end of the couch. Dean let out a chuckle before turning away and heading deeper into the apartment, towards their bedroom.

“Just giving you shit, Mike!” Dean called back, over his shoulder.

Michael didn’t remember falling asleep. Did he really sleep through the entire episode? Groaning, he reached for the remote and turned the TV off before getting up to go properly greet Dean.

“Well, well, well,” Dean let out in amusement as Michael came up behind him and began pressing a line of kisses down Dean’s neck and onto Dean’s shoulder, having caught Dean in the middle of changing out of his work shirt. “Hello to you, too, Mr. Shurley.”

“Did you have a nice day at work?” Michael asked before switching to do a line of kisses down the other side of Dean’s neck. Dean let out a small moan when Michael hit a ticklish spot.

“As best as it can be when you deal with idiots who don’t maintain their cars like they should,” Dean breathed.

“Oh?” Michael asked. Michael grabbed Dean by the waist and spun him around to press him into the dresser. Michael placed his hands on the dresser on either side of Dean before giving Dean a peck on the corner of his mouth. “And what kind of idiots did you have to deal with today?”

“I…” Dean began, pausing when Michael returned to pressing kisses down the side of his neck. Dean instinctively tilted his head to give Michael better access. “We had a man bring in his car because he didn’t understand why it was breaking down. Turned out he  _ never _ had a oil change the entire time he’s owned the thing.”

“Major idiot,” Michael agreed blindly. He reached up to delicately grab Dean’s face and kissed Dean, both of them moaning as Dean grabbed Michael’s waist and pulled him closer. Michael pulled away panting when he ran out of air and gave Dean a small smirk before giving him another quick peck. “Hi, Dean.”

“Hi,” Dean said back between his own panting. “You know, if this is how I’m going to be greeted every time I come home after work, you need to beat me home more often.”

“I’m working on that. Eric is looking to hire more accountants,” Michael promised.

“You better be,” Dean insisted, shaking his dirty work shirt at Michael before tossing it into the nearby hamper. “Enjoy your day with Lucifer and Gabriel?”

“Please never leave me alone with those two again,” Michael replied without hesitation, causing Dean to burst into laughter.

“But they’re your brothers,” Dean insisted.

“Even worse,” Michael muttered, scrunching his face in irritation. Lucifer and Gabriel were okay. Individually. Get them together, however, and Michael couldn’t get a moment of peace.

“I promise nothing,” Dean said without mercy as he continued to laugh. He began to walk away, towards the shelf they use to store their bath towels, but Michael grabbed him and pinned him to the dresser again.

“Nuh uh uh,” Michael scolded through renewed amusement. “You’re home now and neither of us have work tomorrow. I get to have my merry way with you.”

“Michael, I’m filthy and sweaty. Working in a car shop ain’t the cleanest job in the world,” Dean chuckled.

“I don’t care,” Michael said, punctuating his statement with a long, slow lick across Dean’s right collarbone and ended at Dean’s shoulder.

“You know, I never figured a borderline germaphobe like you would be into dirt and grime as much as you are,” Dean murmured. His eyes fluttered shut as Michael held one side of his head so it stayed in place as Michael attacked his neck again.

“Only with you,” Michael replied with a smirk, lips still grazing Dean’s neck.

“Welp,” Dean began. He grabbed Michael’s waist and pushed the man towards the bed, letting out a smirk of his own when Michael let out a squeak in surprise as he fell backward onto the mattress, his legs over the edge. “If that’s the only requirement...”

“Dean,” Michael warned in a bemused tone, propping himself up on his elbows. Typically, Michael was the one running the show. Dean very much  _ enjoyed _ it when Michael was the one giving orders. But the mischievous look currently on Dean’s face told Michael that things were going to be a little bit different tonight.

“Nuh uh uh,” Dean scolded, copying Michael’s earlier scolding when Michael attempted to stand up. “You keep your hind end on that bed. You’re the one making up for me having multiple dinners alone.”

“Dean,” Michael repeated, but he leaned back onto his elbows as ordered.

“Now, Michael,” Dean said. He approached the bed and straddled Michael’s lap so he could lean down close to Michael’s face. “If anyone is having their merry way tonight, it’ll be me. I think I’ve earned it.”

Michael would be lying if he tried to say those final five words didn’t go straight to his crotch. But Michael was no masochist, and he made his reaction to Dean’s words quite clear with a roll of his hips against Dean’s. Dean leaned forward further, bracing himself with his hands on either side of Michael’s head after forcing Michael to fall flat on his back.

“Someone is clearly excited about that idea,” Dean whispered in Michael’s ear. “Now, can I trust you to keep your eyes closed or should I pull out the blindfold?”

Michael’s mouth instantly went dry. He expected a guilt trip tonight. This was the exact  _ opposite _ of a guilt trip.

“I… I can keep my eyes closed,” Michael stuttered out.

Dean gave Michael a grin and caressed the side of Michael’s face while giving him a peck on the corner of his mouth.

“Good. Now, you stay here with your eyes closed, as promised, while I quick go put away something that needs to be stored in the fridge. I left it on the counter after getting home,” Dean said. Michael nodded rapidly, closing his eyes as Dean insisted. Dean’s weight disappeared from around Michael and the room went quiet.

Michael let his mind wander as he thought of what Dean possibly had in mind for the rest of the night. It had been a while since Dean surprised Michael with anything. Hell, Dean didn’t even make Michael’s birthday present the previous month a surprise. He was open about it from the moment he had the idea. But when Dean did make something a surprise? It was usually  _ good _ . Sighing impatiently, Michael flexed his ankles as he slowly rocked his feet back and forth, from heel to toe, on the floor.

Michael twitched in shock when he suddenly felt hands on his waist, throwing a bitch face in hopefully the correct direction as Dean began to chuckle.

“Sorry for startling you, darling,” Dean drawled out sarcastically.

“How are you both the loudest and the quietest person I know?” Michael asked. He bit his lip as he began to feel Dean run a finger under the rim of his jeans.

“I’m just that talented,” Dean said. “Now that I’m back, let’s relieve you of this belt.”

Michael attempted to reach down and undo his buckle, but he withdrew his hands when Dean smacked at them.

“Hands to yourself, Mr. Shurley,” Dean said in a pseudo-stern tone. Michael let out a small huff before paying attention to every minute touch as his belt was undone and slipped out of his belt loops.

“Do I get any hints on where this is going?” Michael asked hopefully, letting out a smile.

“Not yet,” Dean said. Michael’s smile turned into a pout, earning him more chuckles from Dean. “Just be a good boy and keep your eyes closed.”

“They’re closed,” Michael insisted.

“Good,” Dean repeated. He slowly undid Michael’s button and zipper, snickering when he saw which pair of boxers Michael had put on that morning.

“Kiss my fucking ass, Winchester,” Michael hissed when he realized what Dean was laughing about.

“It’s adorable that you actually wear the clothes that your nieces and nephews give you,” Dean commented, still snickering at the large smiley faces plastered all over Michael’s boxers.

“I got them for Christmas. What am I supposed to do, not wear them?” Michael asked. He shifted his hips in irritation, seriously considering opening his eyes so he could sass back properly.

“Alright. Alright. I’ll drop the topic,” Dean relented.

Dean ran his hands down Michael’s legs and removed Michael’s socks. Dean briefly debated taking his chance to tickle Michael, but he decided he didn’t want a kick to the face and began running his hands back up Michael’s legs.

“This is the slowest strip ever,” Michael teased as he lifted his hips so Dean could claim his jeans.

“Oh, this is barely getting started,” Dean said. He knelt at the edge of the bed, between Michael’s legs, and reached up so he could drag his fingers down Michael’s torso.

“Well, ‘barely getting started’ is making me think you just wanted an excuse to rub your dirty hands all over me,” Michael said with a laugh.

“Maaaaaybe. Maybe not,” Dean drawled.

Dean decided to finally cut to the chase and ran his fingers under the waistband of Michael’s boxers before pulling them down enough to pull Michael’s dick out, causing Michael to hiss in shock at the sudden contact with cooler air. Michael was regretting not letting the heat run in the apartment all day.

“Dear fucking God, Dean,” Michael hissed, muffling a groan when Dean blew more cold air over Michael’s dick. Michael had to push the heels of his palms into his eyes so he wouldn’t open them. Now was not the time to violate the one rule Dean gave him so far.

“Do I have your attention?” Dean asked cheerfully.

Michael nodded his head with a few jerky movements, keeping his hands firmly in place on his face. Dean let go of Michael’s dick and leaned away from the bed momentarily. A popping noise nearly had Michael pulling his hands away from his face so he could find out what the fuck the noise came from, but Michael had to push the heels of his palms harder into his eye sockets when Dean picked his dick back up and began spreading a gel-like substance around the shaft.

“What the everloving fuck, Dean,” Michael whined through a moan, feeling his face flush rapidly.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you said I was moving too slow. Am I going too fast now?” Dean asked, spreading more of the gel on. Michael could hear the shit-eating grin in Dean’s voice. God, if Michael looked in a mirror, his face would probably look sunburned.

“What  _ is _ that stuff?” Michael whined again.

Dean let go of Michael’s dick, making Michael wince at the thought of the substance staining his boxers, and a light scraping noise filled the air. Dean leaned forward a moment later and lightly tapped the side of Michael’s jaw.

“Open wide,” Dean said with amusement. Michael pursed his mouth in protest for a few moments before his nose registered the sickly-sweet smell that was close to his face. Inhaling to prepare himself, Michael slowly opened his mouth, trusting that Dean wouldn’t be shoving anything utterly disgusting in it. A moment later, Dean was using a spoon to spread the gel across Michael’s tongue. Michael recognized it immediately upon swallowing.

“Cherry fucking pie filling?!” Michael shrieked in shock. Dean let out a laugh and leaned back to his kneeling position, returning to spreading the filling over Michael’s dick.

“Just the glaze. I promise. I filtered out the whole cherries,” Dean chuckled.

“Dean,” Michael began, taking a few even breaths. “Why, on God’s green Earth, are you spreading cherry pie filling over my dick?”

“Because cherry pie is my favorite,” Dean answered plainly, as if he had been asked about the weather.

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?” Michael continued. He began breathing rapidly, not understanding any of Dean’s motivations at the moment.

“It has to do with  _ everything _ ,” Dean replied.

Michael’s next question was interrupted as he gasped for air while Dean slowly licked up the underside of his shaft. Then it clicked in Michael’s head.  _ Cherry pie was Dean’s favorite _ . Fuck. This was going to be  _ slow _ .

Dean took his time reaching the tip of Michael’s dick and made sure to lick up every glob of cherry glaze he spread over it. The sound of Dean’s moan as he swallowed his mouthful of glaze had Michael growing harder, and suddenly there wasn’t enough oxygen in the world to help Michael breathe.

Michael had no idea how much time was passing because all he could focus on was Dean taking his time to lick every speck of cherry glaze off and the moans he made while doing it. So much blood was rushing to Michael’s dick that he wasn’t sure which was more red: his face from his inability to breathe or his dick from demanding more attention. His dick had to match the damn cherry glaze, at the very least.

“Gah… Dean…” Michael gasped, trying to force himself to take in any amount of oxygen.

“Did you say something, Michael?” Dean asked innocently, continuing with little licks to clean up any remaining glaze on the section he just cleared before moving on to another. Michael took his tiny reprieve to breath heavily, moaning loudly as he moved his hands from his eyes up to run through his hair and grip it tightly.

“Dean…” Michael whimpered as Dean licked up another large line of glaze.

“Mmm?” Dean made a questioning noise as he took the tip of Michael’s dick in his mouth and teased it with a tongue swirl.

“D...Dean…” Michael repeated. For the life of him, he couldn’t get a full sentence out. The smirk he felt on Dean’s lips told him that Dean was enjoying this fact.

Dean lapped up the last line of glaze quickly and swallowed before taking in as much of Michael’s dick as he could fit, moving on to a proper blow job in earnest. Michael gasped at the sudden change in pace and gripped his hair tighter. He was sure he was close to ripping it out by the root.

“Fuck, Dean,” Michael managed to get out between moans.

Michael continued to gasp for air, losing the ability to breath again, and let a hand fling down to grip at the bed sheets to let Dean know he was getting close. He felt tears of frustration begin to form in his eyes as Dean took Michael’s cue as a sign to slow down, and Michael’s moans turned into whimpers. Michael felt the vibrations of Dean’s chuckling and briefly wondered if this torture was the real punishment for his workaholism. No way in Hell did Dean come up with this idea without feeling vindictive about it.

“Dean,” Michael whimpered, his voice cracking.

Catching the cracking, Dean took pity on Michael sped back up. Michael gripped at the bed sheet again and bit his lower lip as Dean did a tongue twirl that had Michael stop breathing entirely. Michael was positive he was going to pass out. When Dean did it again, however, Michael was gasping for air as he was finally pushed over the edge. Dean made a smug humming noise as Michael came down, only pulling away when Michael’s grip on the bedsheet loosened.

“I hate you,” Michael croaked. He opened his eyes just as Dean spit Michael’s cum into the now-empty container that had held the cherry glaze.

“I love you, too,” Dean laughed, the smug grin on his face looking like it was going to become a permanent fixture.

“Do I want to fucking know where you got that idea from?” Michael asked weakly. He mentally thanked God that he was already stretched out on the bed, because he was not moving any time soon.

“Aww, Mike, I’m hurt,” Dean pseudo-whined as he crawled back up onto the bed to straddle Michael, looking down at the man with an equally-fake pout. “You don’t think I can come up with ideas on my own?”

“Oh, I damn well know you fucking can. What caused this one?” Michael shot back.

“You’ve been complaining that the can of cherry pie filling in the pantry had been collecting dust,” Dean replied. “I decided to use it.”

Michael gave Dean a ‘You have got to be fucking kidding me’ look before closing his eyes again, trying to ignore the smug grin that had returned to Dean’s face. There was no way Michael was going to be able to eat cherry pie with a straight face again.


End file.
